


Setbacks & Steps Forward

by lha



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Angst, Changing circumstances, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Gen, Healing, Homophobia, Imperfect solutions, Season/Series 12, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22804003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lha/pseuds/lha
Summary: “Country General receiving,” Sam said, picking up the radio handset.“This is 47.  County, we are on route with a 9 week post op hip replacement posteriorly displaced.  Familiar face, first name Doctor,” Ben added, and with a sinking feeling Sam knew exactly who he meant.Kerry encounters some complications after her hip-replacement surgery.
Relationships: Luka Kovač/Abby Lockhart, Sandy Lopez/Kerry Weaver
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked the way that this issue was managed in the show, but I couldn't resist the possibilities it provided. Sorry.

“Country General receiving,” Sam said, picking up the radio handset.

“This is 47. County, we are on route with a 9 week post op hip replacement posteriorly displaced. Familiar face, first name Doctor,” Ben added, and with a sinking feeling Sam knew exactly who he meant.

“Roger that, ETA?”

“We’re about two minutes out.”

“Thanks 47. County out.”

“That what I think it was?” Frank asked.

“I never know what’s going on inside your head Frank so I really couldn’t say. Morris! Have you seen Luka?”

“He’s in Trauma 1 with a double gunshot. What do you need?” She hesitated but she knew that Tony was at lunch so she had limited choices.

“We’ve got a post op hip dislocation rolling up,” she said. “Best behaviour.”

“I’m always on my best behaviour, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just… try and tone it down Morris,” she said, throwing some gloves at him before she led the way out to the Ambulance Bay. 

The rig pulled up and Ben jumped out of the cab, coming round to open the doors.

“It’s ok sweetheart,” she could hear Weaver saying to the toddler sitting on Julie’s knee next to the trolly. “You’re being really brave, but you need to let go of my hand, just for a minute.” Sam had heard a lot of parent’s putting on a brave face, but Kerry was doing as good a job as any of them.

“Hey Henry,” Sam said, with her best friendly nurse smile, climbing into the back of the van. “Do you remember me?” Julie threw her a grateful look as Sam picked him up, freeing the paramedic. “I met you at the picnic,” she said, as she gently disentangled his hand from where he was clasping his mother’s arm. 

Sam had learnt long ago that there was more to Weaver than the formidable Chief of Staff, but even at events like the County ER picnic, she cultivated a certain professional persona. Today, she’d clearly not been expecting to see her colleagues; loose fitting trousers and a long sleeved tee, her hair pulled back simply and no make-up. She looked decidedly less imposing than usual.

“That’s right Henry, go with Sam,” Weaver said. The toddler was quiet but obviously upset and didn’t wrap his arms around her as she climbed out of the rig.

“Posterior dislocation of the right hip,” Julie began running off the call sheet as she and Ben disengaged the clamps on the trolley. “The joint was replaced 9 weeks ago without complication. BP is 143 over 92, resps 17 and pulse is 136,” she continued as Morris helped to pull the trolley off the back of the van. Even with the care they took, Sam could see the colour drain from Weaver's face as she bit down on her lip, when the wheels hit the ground.

Cradling the back of Henry’s head, Sam turned it into the crook of her neck.

“Morning Doctor Weaver,” Morris said but didn’t get a response.

“No access started, and the patient refused pain relief,” Julie reported.

“Toughing it out Chief?” his joking tone wasn’t landing well with anay of them.

“Henry how about we go and see if there are any cookies in the lounge?” she asked as they all made their way through triage.

“Momma?” he asked, turning to find her. “Momma?”

“You know what Henry?” Kerry said, reaching up a hand towards him. “ I think Haleh’s working today. Maybe she even has some of her chocolate chip cookies?” She was clearly trying desperately to hold it together and not scare him, but she couldn’t possibly keep it going much longer.

“Haleh _is_ in today,” said Sam. “And I’m sure we can find her.”

“Momma?” he called as Sam moved away.

“She’s going to be just fine honey,” she said, rubbing gentle circles on his back. “We’ll look after her and you’ll get to go see her and give her a big hug in just a little while.”

“Is that young Mr Lopez?” Haleh said, obviously having been tipped off. “Now, you come to your Auntie Helah and Sam can go and make sure that Dr Morris doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, knowing that she could trust that Henry would be fine.

She ran back in the direction of the welcome desk and Frank said, 'Trauma 2' as she passed.

“No!” Kerry was saying forcefully. “No Morris. I just need you to reduce it.” Lily was putting in an IV, and looked up Sam pointedly.

“Dr Weaver. Kerry,” he tried.

“I’m going to get Dr Kovac,” Lily said, disappearing through the swing doors. Sam picked up the clothing sheers and cut from the hem up to just below the waistband of the right leg.

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” Weaver said, more calmly. “But I’ve got Henry here and I… I can’t be on opiates… I can’t.”

“Kerry?” Luka appeared. “Do we have a film yet?”

“Not yet,” Morris said clearly frustrated. “I was trying to convince Dr Weaver to accept some pain relief before we moved her to put the plate in place.”

“You don’t need an x-ray. We all know it’s dislocated,” she pointed out.

“How long ago did it happen?” Kovac asked. Gesturing for the tech to come in. 

“I don’t know,” Kerry said, her distress and frustration growing. Morris had fallen back happily and Sam handed him the doppler before going for the lead vests and handing them out.

“We got the call twenty three minutes ago,” Ben said as they collected the last of their kit up. “Good luck Doc.”

“Maybe ten minutes before that then,” Weaver said wearily. “It took a while to get to the phone and…”

“Radial pulse is weak,” Morris said. “And she’s tachy.” Luka had pulled back the fabric of her trouser leg Sam had already cut so that he could see the scar along the side of her hip.

“Kerry, we’re going to roll you to get the X-ray plate in,” he warned her as they all stepped in to move her as gently as they could. “ Is this the first time this has happened since the surgery?”

“Shooting,” the tech called.

“I… I had a partial… anterior dislocation… two weeks post-op. I managed to correct it myself. Ortho cleared me.”

“Ok,” Luka said. “And rolling again.” They moved her, removed the plate and then settled her back down. Sam watched as her heart rate jumped again, and caught Luka’s eye.

“Kerry,” he said quietly. “I know you’re concerned about Henry, but there’s no way we’re going to be able reposition the joint unless the surrounding muscles are more relaxed than they are now.”

“I just… I can’t…” she almost sobbed. 

“Dr Weaver,” Sam said, moving up to the head of the bed. “Henry’s with Haleh and he’s just fine. We can figure out what needs to happen later but for now, what he needs is you making the best decision for you now. That’s what will be best for him in the long run.”

“Film,” Lily said, arriving back through the doors. Luka took it and held it up to the light at an angle he must have known both she and Kerry could see. It didn’t look great.

“Kerry?” he asked. Screwing up her eyes, she nodded. “Ok. Lily let’s start with four mgs morphine and two of ativan.”

“Not long now,” Sam said, brushing back the hair that had escaped from the older woman’s ponytail. The sticky wet patch, took her by surprise, but even through her gloves, she knew what it was.

“Luka,” she said, holding up her blood stained glove.

“Kerry? Did you hit your head?” His pen light was in his hand and he was checking her pupils.

“No. Maybe on the coffee table but I was already kneeling down. I was kneeling down. I just… I’ve been so careful and I just reached to pick up a crayon and… It was supposed to be more stable than this by now.” 

“Pupils are equal and reactive. Sam?”

“The lac’s pretty superficial I think,” she said, pressing a four by four onto it.

“Let’s draw blood for a cbc, chem 7 and culture panel. Kerry, we’re going to reduce your hip now. We’ll try it once without sedation Morris.”

“Only the best service for the Chief,” he said. “Allis approach?”

“Yeah,” Luka agreed. “Up you go.”

“Henry’s way down in the lounge,” Sam said quietly, drawing Weaver’s attention away from the other men. “So don’t worry about being quiet.” Sam leant over taking hold of her far elbow and helping to brace her against the gurney as Luka stabilized her pelvis.

“Three, two, one,” said Morris before pulling back and externally rotating her bent leg. Her gasp was mostly unvoiced but she bucked against them as there was an audible ‘pop’. Sam was just about to step back when there was another less satisfying noise and this time Kerry screamed.

“Shit,” Morris breathed. “What was that?!”

“Let’s push fifteen of etomidate and start 5L of O2 ” Luka said urgently. Sam kept talking to Kerry even though she was certain the other woman was beyond hearing her. She fastened on a nasal cannula as Lily pulled up the sedation.

“Did I just fix a posterior dislocation and then dislocate the joint anteriorly?” Morris asked, clearly terrified.

“Yes,” Luka said, bluntly.

“Etomidate in,” Lily said.

“She’s out,” Sam said, as Weaver went limp against the pillow.

“In post replacement joints, the surrounding structure is less stable,” Luka said. “The x-ray isn’t clean either so it could be periprosthetic joint infection which would make the instability worse. Morris it’s not your fault, but we need to fix it.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Ok.”

“Take it slow,” Luka coached.

“Got it,” he said, when there was a quieter ‘thwack’. He carefully lowered her leg back on to the gurney.

“She’s coming round,” Sam said.

“Let’s get a post reduction series, and a CT,” Morris suggested.

“Did it skim the socket?” Kerry asked, grimacing and panting as Morris climbed off the gurney

“I don’t think so. It sounded like it reduced fully but then it slipped out of the socket anteriorly when Morris went to lower the leg.” She nodded, biting her lip.

“Let’s push another four of morphine and get you up to radiology for x-rays and a CT. Lily can you page Ortho and Sam, can I get a temp?”

“Sure,” she said, ducking under the IV line that Lily was holding up for her.

“How have you been feeling Kerry?” Luka, asked.

“Ok. There haven’t been any signs that... “ she trailed off.

“99.8,” Sam said. 

“Morphine’s in.” 

“Henry had a cold last week, I’ve probably just picked that up.”

“Any weight loss?” he asked. It had struck Sam too, but it was hard to tell when you were used to seeing someone in suits and lab coats.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe a little,” she said eventually. “You think the joint’s infected?”

“I think it’s possible. Your incision looks clean, but you’ve got a low grade fever, weight loss and increased instability in the joint. Ortho will be able to better judge as they’ll have records of your progress.”

“I’ve had to adjust my gait and posture, it could just be a problem with ligament laxity.”

“It could,” Luka said, but clearly he wasn’t convinced.

“I don’t know why I’m…” she said, looking up and blinking furiously. “I thought… I was almost there… I don’t know if I can bear the idea of needing a revision…” The morphine was clearly kicking in, her head movements changing and the length of her blinks extending. 

“We don’t know that surgery will be necessary even if it is PJI,” Luka said. “Sam would you accompany Dr Weaver up to radiology?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Ortho are saying it’ll be two hours before they can send anyone down, radiology have a spot in twenty minutes,” Lily said.

“I’ll come by when you’re back from radiology.” Luka squeezed her shoulder. “And we’ll put a couple of sutures in that head lac.” 

“We should get you into a gown,” Sam said, with an apologetic smile after Luka had left. Weaver nodded without opening her eyes, clearly resigned. 

“I’ll pull the screens across,” Lily said before coming to give Sam a hand. They worked quickly and professionally, the routine well familiar and determined to make the process as painless as possible in all meanings of the words.

“Can I get you anything?” Lily asked.

“Could you check on Henry?” she asked, wincing as Sam raised the head of the gurney. “And I should speak to his grandparents.”

“I’ll go see how they’re doing,” Lily said.

“Have you got the number? I can call for you if it would help?” she offered. Sam had been pretty new into the department when Sandy Lopez had died. She hadn’t even worked with the Chief of Staff all that often, but the fact that there had been a custody dispute had become common knowledge. While Weaver was openly acknowledged to be a pain in the ass, it was an open understanding that she was _their_ pain in the ass, and Sam couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to be in that situation.

“Or we could wait till you’ve seen ortho?” Sam said when there was no immediate response.

“I shouldn’t wait, they… Henry shouldn’t be left sitting with someone, when he has family who would gladly look after him.” It was an odd phrase, and one that sounded to Sam like it was being repeated rather than believed.

“I’ll get you the phone and give you some privacy then,” she said.

“Thank you Sam,” she replied quietly, seeming to finally relax into the pain relief.

When Sam came back after the call, Weaver seemed quiet and withdrawn but looked up and offered her a tight smile.

“Did you get a hold of them?” Sam asked, taking the handset and replacing it in the cradle on the wall.

“Yes, they… They’re going to come in and pick Henry up,” she said with less convincing optimism than she’d managed with her son. “I know we need to get to radiology now, but I’d like to see him when we get back?”

“Of course you can,” Sam said, transferring the bag of saline across to the gurney pole.

Once they were upstairs and Weaver was in with the radiology team, Sam called down to the ER;

“Frank? Can you ask Haleh to bring Henry along to wherever Dr Weaver’s going when we get back.

“Exam three is free right now, I’ll ask her to meet you there. Weaver ok?” he asked.

“She’s ok for now,” Sam said. “Gotta go, thanks Frank.” She hung up as they wheeled the doctor back out into the waiting area.

“Everything alright?” Weaver asked with a frown.

“Yeah. Frank has reserved a premium room for the rest of your stay in the ER,” Sam said lightly, only to get a gentle snort in response before Weaver carefully adjusting her position on the gurney.

“Pain meds wearing off?” she asked as she pushed the trolley into the lift.

“A little, but I can string a thought together so I’ll take the compromise.”

Morris was passing through the lift lobby when they arrived in the ER and grabbed the end of the bed to help steer it through the corridor.

“Dr Weaver, I just…”

“Don’t apologise Morris, it wasn’t your fault,” she said looking at him flatly.

“But maybe…”

“Not your fault,” she repeated seriously. “Now go and clear some of those patients I can see overflowing from the board.”

“Now who’s this I can hear Henry?” Haleh was saying as they entered the exam room.

“Momma!” he cried happily, leaning out of the nurses arms and towards his mother. Haleh held on long enough that she could walk round to the left of the bed and more gently allow him to climb across.

“Hello love,” Weaver said, burying her nose in his hair. Henry was chatting away and while Sam could only catch one word in ten, his mother seemed to follow much more as she asked him questions. The pair of them were in a world of their own and once she’d moved the saline, Sam fell back to give them some space.

“He’s a good kid,” Haleh said quietly. “Looks just like his other mom.”

“Now Henry,” Weaver was saying quietly, his hands clasped between hers so that she could look him in the face as they spoke. “Abuelo and Abuela are going to come and pick you up, so that you can stay at their house for a little while.”

“Little while or a long while?”

“Well, I’m not sure yet,” she said with a smile.

“Broke-ed?” he asked, pointing at her hip.

“A little bit, but they’re going to make it better again.” Henry seemed to consider this before asking;

“Lexie?” 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get to see Alexa too,” Weaver said smiling as the two year old seemed to conclude this was the deciding factor and started talking happily away again.

“There you are,” Mrs Lopez said when she arrived a little later. “My poor boy, come to your Abuela,” she said, reaching out. Henry smiled at her and allowed himself to be lifted into her embrace quite contentedly. “Let’s get you out of this horrible place.”

“Maria,” Kerry said, straightening the sheet that was covering her legs nervously. 

“You shouldn’t have taken him back if you weren’t fit to look after him,” the older man said. “We were happy to have him. There was no need to put him through this.”

“The risk of something like this happening at this stage...” Weaver protested quietly.

“Do you have any of his things?” Mrs Lopez asked, clearly uninterested in listening to her explanation.

“No, I uh. I didn’t get a chance…” 

Sam could barely believe what it was she was hearing. If these were the family of just any patient, she was pretty sure that she’d have stepped in by now to point out quite how unreasonable they were being.

“What was she thinking not bringing Paws, Nenne? And you don’t even have a coat!” Mrs Lopez asked her grandson rhetorically, her tone light but the comment clearly pointed.

“Well, we’ll go by your place then,”’ Mr Lopez said.

“Of course. Thank you. You have the key with you?” Dr Weaver, asked.

“I do. We’ll take enough things for a few weeks,” he said.

“Hopefully it won’t need to be for that long.”

“Let’s be safe rather than sorry this time, so that Henry doesn’t end up back here,” Mr Lopez said pointedly. Sam bit her tongue as she watched the Chief of Staff swallow and then nod.

“Well, thank you for coming so quickly,” she said, straightening the sheet over her lap again before looking up. “Henry love?” she continued, and he twisted round in his grandmother’s arms to see her. “I’ll speak to you soon, ok?”

“Bye Momma!” he waved, from where he was being held several feet away. Sam watched in disbelief as Weaver blew her son a kiss and the Lopezs’ left without another word. The silence when they were gone was defenning.

After a couple of moments, silent tears started pouring down Weaver’s face.

“Sorry, can we blame this on the morphine?” she said, wiping the tears away from her cheeks as they continued to pour down. “Really, this is ridiculous. They’re not bad people. They’re so good with him and he loves being with his cousins. I just…” she said in an unsteady rush. “They took him for the first six weeks after my surgery and I missed him so much.”

“You didn’t get to see him?” Sam asked, horrified at the idea of being seperated from Alex like that.

“I spoke to him every day, and his Uncle Carlos brought him round a couple of times,” she said. “But it’s... complicated.”

“Families often are,” Haleh said, bringing over a box of tissues.

“But Henry’s lucky to have them. They loved Sandy and they love him, ” Weaver said with conviction as she wiped off her face. “Really, it’s just me they’re not terribly fond of and I’m sure you can both understand that,” she added with a self deprecating smile.

“Now you see here,” Haleh said smartly, waiting until she was certain that she had the doctor’s attention. “You may have to get along with them for your son’s sake, but don’t you dare to assume that any of the rest of us agree with the way they’re behaving. Or what they think of you.”

Sam searched for something to add but couldn’t seem to find the words. Instead, she settled for straightening the IV line, leaving her hand resting on the other woman’s arm after she’d smoother over the tape.

“That’s kind of you to say Haleh,” she said, clearly trying to pull herself back together. “Now, do you think I need to phone Ortho and scare them into coming down today?”

“You leave them to me,” the other nurse said.

“And I’ll let Luka know you’re back," Sam added, offering her what felt like an unconvincing smile before they left her on her own.

Once they were back in the hustle and bustle of the department, Sam stalled. Haleh, who had been walking ahead of her stopped and looked back. 

"Coffee," she said, catching Sam's elbow and steering her into the Lounge.

"Was that…?” Sam began once they were alone. “I mean. The way they… she must know that wasn’t ok.”

"Kerry Weaver is many things, but she's not naive," Haleh said, pouring coffee into mugs. "But I suspect she also knows that she would have lost the custody battle if they hadn't settled. She could have kept fighting it, but it would have taken years and probably cost her everything, including her job. This way might not be ideal but it's the best compromise in a difficult situation."

"But Henry's going to realise something's wrong before long. Kids pick stuff up."

"Yes they do,” Haleh agreed, with a sigh. “Doesn’t matter what I see, I'll never understand why two grown people loving each other riles some folk up so."

Sam didn’t say anything. She knew she wasn’t the most open minded, but she worked on the principle that what people did on their own time was up to them. Still, all of this made her think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! I have a couple more underway but I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

Abby had already been on her way into County for the start of her twelve till twelve shift, when Luka had called to tell her that Kerry had been brought in. Her first irrational thought was guilt; they’d been in sporadic contact after Kerry had been released and had shared coffee once when she’d been in for physio but life had gotten in the way. Not that her stopping in to say hello would have stopped an unexpected dislocation, or that Kerry wasn’t more than aware of the pressures of working in the ER, but even still.

When Abby arrived in the lounge, she was so caught up in her own thoughts that she had swung her bag over her head and had her jacket half off before she noticed Sam and Haleh.

“Did you hear?” Sam asked, looking up from the coffee cup she was cradling.

“About Kerry? Yeah, Luka called me,” Abby said, opening her locker and hanging up her coat. “Where’s Henry?” 

“The Lopez’s have already been to collect him.” Haleh’s tone was dry as a bone but Abby could read what she wasn’t saying. 

“Ah,” Abby replied, pulling on her coat and straightening her collar. She had been blindsided when Kerry had handed over the guardianship paperwork before her surgery and there hadn’t really been time to dig into the details behind her decision. She hadn’t needed to though, not really. 

Once, after a very long day and over a glass of wine (and a club soda for Abby), Kerry had shared that even before Sandy had died, things had been tense between her and the rest of the Lopez clan. _‘Sandy was family and they loved her despite how they felt about her sexuality. I made it harder to ignore though,’_ she’d said. _’But family meant everything to Sandy. We agreed that as long as her parents were able and willing to help out, we wouldn’t use professional childcare. I… I want to honour that.’_ And she had been, but the idea that if something had happened to her, that there would be no one else to look after Henry had clearly been more than Kerry could tolerate.

“We’re giving Dr Weaver a minute,” Sam said. “She was pretty upset.”

“Did she blame it on the morphine?” Abby asked.

“Of course she did,” Haleh said with a shake of her head. “She’s got a head lac that’s going to need closing and I’m just going to see if we can’t set a fire underneath someone in Ortho.”

“Ok,” she said. “Sam will you get me a suture tray set up?”

“Course,” she said finishing her coffee and rinsing out the mug.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Haleh said, before she followed Sam out.

Abby wondered, as she checked the chart Luka had handed over at Admit, whether Kerry might blame her for the fact she’d ended up here, that even in her quiet council she’d been encouraging her to take the leap.

“Hey,” Luka said quietly interrupting her thoughts.

“Hey,” she replied.

“She needed the surgery,” he said, reading her mind. “And infection of the joint is a reasonably common if unfortunate complication.” Sometimes Luka’s calm was enough to drive her to distraction but other times Abby found it strangely reassuring. 

When Abby had called the apartment to let him know that she was going to stick around till Kerry was out of surgery, and about the request she’d made, Luka had been typically restrained. _’I’m glad she’s going ahead with the replacement,’_ he’d said. _’And about Henry?’_ she’d prompted. _’We should feel honoured. Kerry’s showing a great deal of faith in us.'_

“I know it was the right choice. I just feel bad,” she admitted. 

“I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you,” he said, rubbing her arm gently before leaving her to go.

Abby paused outside the exam room for a moment, gathering herself before she opened the door.

“Hey,” Kerry said, clearly trying to shake herself from her own thoughts. “I didn’t think you were in?” she added as Abby pulled up a stool.

“I've just started. Now, let’s take a look at this head,” she said pulling over the tray and pulling on some gloves. She worked in silence, knowing that when Kerry was ready she’d say something.

“Nine weeks,” she said eventually. “Chances of non-infection, non-trauma related dislocation in someone in their 40s, at nine weeks post op is… I don’t even know.”

“Well, your labs and the CT should be back soon and we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on,” she said snipping the last thread. “Luka said Kline has promised to come down himself as soon as they are.”

“Good,” she said quietly. “That’s good.” Abby watched her for a minute, trying to read what was going on inside her head. “That’s you done,” she said pulling off her gloves. “Some of my finest needlework hidden behind your hairline.”

“Sorry, I should have thought - you could have just stapled it.”

“Consider it a perk of the job,” Abby said folding the cloth over the tray.

“Like having the head of Orthotics called down to the ER?” Marty Kline said, with just enough humour to diffuse the comment.

“Thank you for coming,” Kerry replied, squaring her shoulders.

“Can you confirm what you were doing at the time of the dislocation?” he asked, leafing through chart Abby had handed over.

“I was kneeling on the floor, knees perpendicular to hips. I rose to about forty-five degrees before leaning forward to pick something up from the floor so that I could maintain at least a ninety degree angle at the hip joint.”

“Kneeling?”

“Was cleared by my physio three weeks ago. And somewhat essential when looking after a toddler.”

“Your last check-up looked good,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t have expected that to have caused you a problem either.”

“So,” Kerry said with a deep breath. “Periprosthetic Joint Infection?”

“Yes. Your blood test and the CT are enough to confirm that much. The good news is, we seem to have caught this early there’s no sign of sinus or fistula formation in the tissue around the joint,” he said holding up the scan to the light.

“So we can try DAIR?” she asked.

“I want to do an arthrocentesis as soon as we can, and once we’ve got the cultures back we’ll have a better idea,” Kline said with a frown. “But given that your last blood test was clean two weeks ago, the surrounding tissue and bone all seem to be in good condition and you’re otherwise fit and well. It might be worth a shot.”

“I’d really like not to have to go all the way back to the beginning of my rehabilitation if at all possible.”

“Like I said Kerry, we’ll have to see. We’ll admit you for high dose IV antibiotics for the time being, then if it comes back as something with a good response to targeted treatment then we’ll try for debridement, antibiotic packing and implant retention. But even then, if we go in and I think that it needs to be a total revision then we’ll have to change course.”

“But you could do a one stage revision?” Kerry asked, the barest hint of panic creeping into her tone. 

Abby wasn’t totally familiar with the the treatment plans that were part of this negotiation but she did know that the gold standard in infection related joint revisions was a two stage revision where the infected prosthetic was removed, the infection treated over a number of weeks before a replacement was fitted. In Europe though they regularly removed, debrided, disinfected and replaced in the same operation.

“You are exactly why they say doctors make the worst patients, Kerry.” Kline said with a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t spend weeks sitting around, waiting for you to put a new joint in Marty. “

“Kerry, until we know more, I’m not going to promise you anything and you’re going to have to trust my judgement once we get in there,” he looked at her pointedly and Abby was reminded of his quiet tenacity over the original surgery.

“Yes, yes of course. I’m sorry, I just…”

“I understand. You’ve been remarkably compliant according to your Ortho file, which surprises no one more than me,” he added with a raised eyebrow. “This is a setback, but that’s all.”

“I was walking without any form of crutches during my physio two days ago,” she said with a frustrated sigh.

“And if you hadn’t displaced the joint today, we might not have known there was a problem for weeks and the infection would have gotten a much stronger hold.

“We’ll start you on Rifampin and Vancomycin as soon as we’ve got some of the synovial fluid out to test,” he continued, scribbling orders onto the chart. “How’s your pain?

“Worse than it’s been in a while but I’m pretty sure that it’s the dislocation,” she said, moving carefully in the bed.

“Agreed. Let’s keep titrating the morphine and keep to phase one post op movement restrictions, just for now. Can you make sure that these get these drawn up?” he asked Abby.

“Sure,” she said, taking back the chart and reading the orders Kline had added. “Do you have a bed upstairs?”

“Not yet. We should be discharging a couple of patients this afternoon though. Do you keep arthrocentesis trays down here?”

“Luka had me order one frrom central supply,” Sam said. “I’ll go fetch it and draw up those antibiotics so they’re ready to go when you’re done.”

“Thanks Sam,” Abby said.

“Then I’ll be back in a minute,” Kline said. “You don’t mind if I page my intern to do the aspiration do you Kerry?”

“Of course not,” she said absently.

When he was gone, Abby turned back to Kerry and gave her a commiserating look.

“There’s no point in getting upset about it,” the other doctor said, clearly trying to convince herself.

“You’re allowed to be frustrated though,” she pointed out. “I’d be livid.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t really help though, does it? Besides, I’ve already terrified Haleh and Sam today with outbursts of uncontrolled emotion.”

“They weren’t terrified, they were concerned.”

“And that’s one of the many things that makes them remarkably good at their jobs. Still, I’d like to maintain some small part of my reputation for when I eventually get back to work.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll scare them back into shape when you need to,” Abby said. “How do you feel about Italian?” 

“Food? I’m not hungry Abby.”

“Well it’s lunchtime and you need to eat,” she pointed out. Seeing Morris walking past, she stuck her head out into the corridor.

“Hey, Morris!” she called. “What was the place you ordered from last week? With the fettucine?”

“Vittorias?”

“Yeah, would you order us some pasta? And some garlic bread, and a side salad. “

“Abby,” Kerry chided her from behind. 

“What?” she said, turning to look at her. “We’ll share! And I’m starving.”

“Second trimester, Dr Weaver!” Archie said, coming to stand in the door. “Can’t get between a pregnant woman and her food.”

“Yeah,” Abby said with a playful pout, grateful for once that Morris had managed to lift the mood.

“Oh I learnt that lesson,” Kerry said rolling her eyes. “Alright, alright! I think Julie picked up my purse for me, so it should be around somewhere. Morris make sure you order enough for everyone but I want a receipt.”

“Yes! Lunch on the big chief!” Morris declared. Abby located the bag tucked under the gurney and handed it over.

“Don’t make a face,” she said, taking the card Kerry had fished out of her billfold. “You need the calories.”

“Don’t forget my receipt Morris!” she called after him. “Abby, could you call up to my office and ask Gary to come down?”

“I could,” she said. “But I’m not going to.”

“I’ve been working at home for weeks Abby, I might as well do some paperwork now that I’m here.”

“Ok,” she conceded. “But no paperwork until after your arthrocentesis and you’ve eaten lunch.”

Two hours, a synovial fluid aspiration, and a well fed ER staff later, Abby was coming out of curtains when Gary stuck his head out into the corridor and yelled for help.

“This isn’t a crash,” Kerry said calmly to the rapidly gathered group. “You’re overreacting,” she said with a pointed look at her PA. 

“You’re diaphoretic and white as a sheet,” Luka said. “Can I get a BP?”

“My pressure’s fine,” she pointed out, as Sam wrapped the cuff around her arm. “I’m not crashing, I’m just nauseous. I’m pretty sure it’s the Rifampin.”

“You’re allergic?” he asked, flicking through the notes. “You must have had to take it profilactly before now.”

“Not allergic,” she said, taking the emesis basin from Sam with a grateful smile and breathing carefully. “It just always makes me feel foul.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Abby asked in frustration. “We could have given you something else.”

“Because Rifampin has the best coverage and I just need to tolerate it for a few weeks.”

“Let’s start you on five of compazine,” Luka said. “But if this is how significant the side effects are after the first dose Kerry, an extended course is going to be pretty unpleasant.”

“I can manage some nausea if that gives me the best chance at a quick recovery,” she said determinedly. Abby thought that the effect was somewhat lost when she started vomiting into the bowl under her chin.

“Come on Gary,” she said, “Time for you to go back upstairs.”

“Yeah,” he said, still looking like a rabbit in the headlights. “I’ll just,” he gathered up the paperwork that they’d been looking at. “Feel better soon Dr Weaver,” he said as he vanished out the door, Luka following behind him.

“Compazine is in,” Sam said, injecting it into the IV line.

“If I have to break in a new PA,” Kerry said dryly, when the heaving stopped. “That might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ve scared him off,” Sam said, looking up and meeting Abby’s eye with a knowing smile. Abby knew what the nurse was getting at and Gary certainly wouldn’t be the first young man to have fallen hard and fast for the indomitable Chief of Staff.

“I think you’re safe on that front,” Abby agreed. “But maybe it’s time to concentrate on being a patient for a few hours? Try and get some sleep,” she said. “If the Compazine doesn’t kick in soon Sam, give her another 5 and come and find me.”

“Will do,” Sam said, swapping out the emesis basin for a fresh one.

Luka caught her from behind as she stood in front of the fridge picking at leftovers.

“Hey!” she protested as he kissed her neck and tried to steal the slice of garlic bread from out of her hand.

“What? I’m about to finish my shift and I’m not sure what’s left in our fridge at home.”

“Very funny,” she said turning round to face him.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”

“Good save,” she conceded, leaning into his embrace. The sound of the lounge door opening made her look up.

“Sorry,” Lily said. “Double trauma, two minutes out.”

“On our way,” Luka said. “Did Dr Weaver make it upstairs?”

“She did,” Lily said, handing them gowns and gloves. 

“Did we see the arthro results?” Abby asked Luka as they made their way outside.

“Yes. Kline was spot on, Vancomyacin and Rifampin is the recommended treatment protocol.” Abby pulled a face.

“It’s going to be a long few weeks,” she said. The compazine had stopped the actual vomiting but she’d still clearly felt pretty awful given that she hadn’t even attempted to get Gary back down with her paperwork.

“She’ll need a twelve week postoperative course,” Luka said as the ambulances pulled in. “I’ve spoken to Kline. They’re going to monitor her closely and speak to ID about alternatives. She’s not had much of a break lately.”

“No, she’s not,” Abby agreed, mostly to herself.

Abby hadn’t offered so much as insisted that she would go by Kerry’s place and pick her up some things the next morning. She hadn’t really thought about what she’d find until she turned into the living room; there were colouring pages and crayons laying on the coffee table, half a plastic farm arranged around them, as though whoever had been playing had just walked away. But the side table at the other end of the room that had been pulled over, the phone dragged across the floor by the cord told a different story.

She stood in the doorway, just staring at the scene for a moment before she shook herself out of her daze. Righting the table and putting the phone back, she headed through to the master bedroom to pack a bag.

When she made it up to Ortho, she found Carlos Lopez standing outside the glass wall watching as Kerry read to the the clearly enthralled boy curled up on her left side. Abby joined him and they stood in silence until Carlos shifted his weight, and taking a deep breath, spoke;

“She doesn’t look good.” He wasn’t wrong. She looked pale and clammy, the shadows beneath her eyes and the intense ward lighting were only highlighting the weight she’d clearly lost recently. “Is it… will she be ok?”

“It is serious,” she began. “But they caught the infection before it became systemic. She’s on a lot of medication just now though which is probably making her feel worse than anything else.”

“The nurse said she was going for surgery this afternoon. Are they going to… Is she going to end up back on her crutch like before?”

“For a while maybe,” she said. “Even if they don’t need to swap out the entire joint, the fact that they’ve opened up the incision to clean the capsule out and remove any compromised tissue will have an impact on her recovery. There's still a good chance of a positive outcome though.” They slipped back into silence.

“I’ve never known a kid his age who loves books as much as he does. He certainly didn’t get that from Sandy,” Carlos said without animosity. “I think it’s beginning to dawn on my parents that he’s not just Sandy’s kid. I mean, I know that he’s not actually related to Kerry but...” he trailed off.

“She’s his mom,” Abby said frankly.

“We were all so upset when… When Sandy passed away,” he said after another extended silence. “I think we got stuck, terrified that we’d lose him too.” Abby didn’t know how to respond to that, didn’t know if there was anything she could say. 

She understood the fear at the root of what he was saying but it was never really that simple. She’d seen Kerry equally terrified that they were going to take Henry away, seen the war that had waged within her as, exhausted, she’d had to hand him over, time and time again. Maybe though, this was a sign that Carols who had been the peace broker once before, realised that the careful, unhealthy truce they’d reached needed to be reviewed.

“It can be hard to break out of behaviours that are rooted in fear,” she said, watching as Kerry ran her hand through Henry’s hair, his head resting on her shoulder.

“But maybe we’d all be better off if we did?” Abby couldn’t disagree with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Greg Pratt was outside taking a moment of comparative calm to catch a breath of fresh air, when the taxi pulled up. He’d learnt from experience that almost anything could happen on the doorstep of the ER but he was pretty sure who it was that was going to be inside.

“Hey Dr Weaver,” he said, opening the door.

“How are they?” she asked, carefully moving both legs over the lip of the door and then using a set of underarm crutches to stand up. 

He’d heard about her emergency admission a few weeks ago, but it was still odd to see her now looking more like a patient than the Chief of Staff. She’d been released last week after they’d successfully debrieded the hip without needing to replace the entire joint, or so the County rumour mill had informed him, but clearly the ongoing treatment for the infection was taking its toll because she was looking pretty rough.

“They’re ok,” he said, “Henry’s with Haleh. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about but he is pretty upset. Mrs Lopez is up in radiology just now.”

“Do you know what happened?” she asked as he held the door open and she made her way purposefully through chairs. Greg was so used to Weaver’s usual if distinct gait, that this more careful movement seemed stranger in comparison. She was moving quickly now but, presumably to protect her compromised hip, wasn’t extending the compromised leg behind her as she walked, which naturally shortened her stride.  
.  
“As far as we can tell, Mrs Lopez was carrying Henry when she lost her footing and fell down the steps outside their apartment.”

“Where are they?” she asked as they made it through to Admit

“Exam one,” he replied, though the sound of the toddler crying was audible even from here. Bypassing everyone who might have tried to stop her, Weaver rounded the Admit Desk and made directly for the exam room in question, opening the door with a well practiced maneuver.

“Oh Henry love,” she said, crossing as quickly as she could towards the bed. Haleh had been doing her best but there had been no settling the toddler since he’d been brought in and when he saw his mother, he cried even more passionately, throwing himself off the edge of the gurney at her. Greg was glad that he was standing close behind her because he was genuinely concerned that she might have been knocked flat otherwise.

As it was, she rocked back into him, the crutches falling to the floor with a clatter as she instinctively wrapped her arms around the small body.

“It’s ok,” she said. “It’s ok Henry,” she repeated holding him close as Greg tried his best to support her, his hands resting on her waist. “Could uh, someone find me a seat?” she asked after a moment, continuing to stroke the back of Henry’s head as he clung to her like a monkey. "Ideally without wheels and something that isn't too low.”

“On it,” Haleh said, vanishing out the room and leaving Greg alone with two people who seemed almost oblivious to him.

She wasn’t gone long and she came back with a chair that looked like someone had stolen it from the canteen. Greg moved to the side so that she could put it down directly behind Weaver and then with one of them on either side they helped her to slowly sit.

“Thank you, ” she said, seeming to relax a little as Henry finally seemed to settle into a more restrained snuffling. “You're sure he's ok?” She asked looking round at him.

“No sign of head injury. Other than a few scrapes, he seems to have been very lucky,” Greg replied honestly. “But now that he’s a bit calmer I’d like to take another set of vitals and maybe get an x-ray of his left leg.” She nodded, clearly not ready to let go of him quite yet.

The door on the other side of the exam room opened and Ray wheeled Maria Lopez in. Her arm was secured in an immobiliser but her face had been cleaned up, so she looked significantly less frightening than when they'd been brought in.

“Oh Nenne,” she said as she came close enough to reach out and touch her grandson. “I’m so sorry Nenne, I’m so sorry,” she continued looking up at the other woman. “I don’t know what happened, I just... tripped. I didn’t mean to. I wouldn’t hurt him...”

“Of course you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t intentionally put Henry in danger any more than I would,” Weaver said, putting her own hand on the other woman’s arm. “Accidents happen Maria and as long as you’re both going to be ok, that’s what matters.” The older woman turned her arm over and they grasped each others elbows clearly sharing something important.

“A few scrapes that will need stitched up," Ray said, when Weaver eventually looked up at him. "A mild concussion and a probable broken clavicle. We’ve just been to get a film and Ortho are going to come down to decide on whether it’ll need pinned.”

“Not too bad then,” Weaver said, offering the older woman a smile.

“And Henry’s ok?” Mrs Lopez asked.

“We need to do a few more checks but he’s going to be just fine,” she said. “ Henry? Do you think you could give Abuela a hug because I think she’s had a fright too?” He seemed a little reluctant but when Haleh stepped in to help transfer him across to sit on his grandmother’s knee he didn’t protest.

“Sore?” he asked, pointing at her shoulder.

“A little Nenne, but I’m so glad that you’re safe," she said, pulling him as close as she could.

“Pratt, could you?” Weaver asked, gesturing to the crutches that he’d leant up against the wall earlier.

“Sure,” he said fetching them and handing them over. He watched as she stood and tested out her leg.

“Ok?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, I think so. Maria? Is Matteo coming? Can I call anyone for you?”

“He was out with his friends.”

“I can try again?” Haleh offered. 

“Thank you,” Mrs Lopez said and the nurse left to make the call.

“Now Henry, shall we let Dr Pratt take a look at you?” Weaver asked. The toddler held his arms up for her to pick him up and for a moment Greg could see the conflict as she considered it but now that he was calmer she clearly knew she shouldn’t .

“I’m sorry love but I still can’t pick you up just yet,” she said eventually.

“Sore? he asked.

“Yes, my hip is still sore I’m afraid. But I’m sure Dr Pratt will be happy to give you a lift?”

“Of course I will,” he said stepping forward. “One very special direct flight for Henry Lopez straight to the gurney.” He giggled shyly as Greg picked him up and swooped him around before sitting him on the bed.

As Ray helped Mrs Lopez get settled into the other bed, Greg repeated another set of vitals that didn’t suggest anything concerning. The leg he was less sure about. 

“What do you think Dr Weaver?”

“I think we’re probably ok,” she said pressing on the flat of Henry’s foot. “But let’s get an x-ray just in case. Who’s the attending on today?”

“It’s us and a moonlighter,” Ray said. “But everything is under control.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it for a minute,” she said wearily. “How’s the board?”

“Not something you should be worrying about,” Greg said.

“Believe it or not, I’m still Chief of Staff Pratt,” she said with a look much more reminiscent of her usual self. “I don’t know when it got so hard to keep attendings in the ER,” she added with a sigh. “But you’re right. It’ll have to wait till I’m back next week.”

“Next week?” he asked.

“I might not be fit to cover the ER myself,” she said pointedly. “But I can at least shuffle some paperwork and see if I can’t figure out why we haven’t appointed anyone yet. Not a problem for today though,” she said, turning her attention back to her son. The look of unadulterated affection on her face as she stroked back his hair, was transformative.

“I managed to speak to your husband Mrs Lopez,” Haleh said, appearing round the door. “He’s coming straight in.”

“That’s good,” Kerry said, changing gear again. “Maria, will you be ok if I go up to radiology with Henry?”

“Of course. I’ll be just fine," she said. "You go with your momma Henry, and I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Haleh, are you ok to accompany Henry and Dr Weaver upstairs?” Greg asked.

“Sure thing,” she said, crossing the room and picking him up. “And maybe we might find some chocolate milk on the way?”

“Or maybe even Strawberry,” Weaver said with a half smile, stepping away from the gurney and tucking her crutches under her arms.

“Stwab!” Henry echoed enthusiastically as the three of them headed out.

“I will be right back Mrs Lopez,” Ray said. “And then we’ll get you stitched up.” 

Greg was heading back out to Admit, when Ray caught up with him.

“Hey. Do you, ah, do you think she’s ok?” he asked leaning back against the counter in an artfully casual pose.

“Who? Mrs Lopez?" Greg asked. “Frank will you call neuro and chase them about Mr Wright?”

“Will do,” the clerk said.

"No, Dr Weaver,” Ray said making a clear effort to keep his voice down. “She must still be on a pretty intense postoperative antibiotic regime and she looks like hell.”

“She has just been called into the ER because her son was injured," Greg pointed out, but he couldn’t deny that he had his own concerns. “You’re worried about her liver function?”

“I’m worried about the fact that she looks like a strong breeze would flattepn her,” Ray said. “Look, they should be monitoring her leukocytes, C-reactive protein, creatinine and liver enzymes twice weekly but given she obviously managed to get herself discharged when she must still be on IV antibiotics...” he shrugged. 

Greg looked at him. “What? I did a rotation in Ortho and joint replacements and revisions are bread and butter up there.”

“Ok,” Greg said, rubbing his neck. “When they come back from radiology, I’ll see if she’ll let me do a blood draw and we can go from there.”

Even if he hadn’t had that conversation with Ray, Greg was pretty sure he’d have said something when he next saw Weaver.

“How's it going?” he asked Haleh, holding the door into Exam One open.

“I think we’re flagging,” she said, with a pointed look behind her to make it clear she wasn’t speaking about the sleeping toddler in her arms.

“I’m fine,” Kerry said as she moved slowly past him. She didn't look fine though, she'd gone from pale to grey, she was diaphoretic and breathing shallowly.

“Henry?” Mr Lopez asked, standing up from where he’d been sitting next to his wife. 

“I took a look at the film,” Weaver said, moving across to her parents in law. “There’s no sign of a fracture.” 

“Oh thank heavens,” Mrs Lopez said reaching out for her husband’s hand.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Here,” he then said slightly awkwardly. “You should sit.”

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the seat. “Haleh, why don’t you lay Henry down next to Maria.”

As his grandparents fussed over Henry, Greg crouched down to speak quietly to the other doctor.

“What do you need?” he asked, deciding that tackling her front on was going to be the best approach. She looked at him for a minute, and he could see her working through her options before she decided to cooperate. 

“I’m just tired I think," she said, deflating. "But I'm overdue my antibiotics,” she added with a frustrated sigh having checked her watch. 

"Well we can sort that out, what are you on?"

“A gram of Vancomycin and 10 of Compazine IV, and 450 mgs of Rifampin p.o."

“And for the pain?” he asked.

“A gram of acetaminophen with codine.”

“Done,” Greg said, standing up. “Haleh?”

“I’ll get Frank to start a chart and get them drawn up,” she said.

“Let’s get you into a bed,” Greg said, “and I’m going to draw some blood so we can test your levels.”

“Are you alright Kerry?” Mrs Lopez asked, seeming to have realised there was something else going on.

“Yes, it’s just important that I don’t miss a dose of antibiotics,” she said levering herself up. Greg stepped in as she closed her eyes, reeling slightly.

“High dose antibiotics can make you feel pretty sick,” Greg said holding her elbow until she seemed more steady. “And we need to do regular blood tests to make sure that the drugs are working and that they aren’t causing too much damage.”

“My liver enzymes were fine two days ago and the infection was undetectable,” Weaver said to him. “I’m just not used to this much excitement,” she added with a short tight smile and clearly for the benefit of the other people in the room. Greg had already lowered the gurney and she sat down carefully handing him her crutches. He hung back, ready to offer assistance but she lifted and rotated both her legs onto the bed in a textbook maneuver. “This is the last of the high doses though and the ongoing treatment should be much less unpleasant,” she added, clearly trying to placate her inlaws. 

“Ongoing?” Mr Lopez asked. It seemed strange to Greg that they wouldn’t already know about all of this given that they were obviously helping her look after Henry.

“I’ll take a lower dose of antibiotics for another ten weeks just to make sure the infection doesn’t reoccur. I should feel much better though.” Greg suspected that would depend on what antibiotics were part of the phase two regime but didn’t point that out.

“But they let you home, feeling like this?“

“It’s been manageable,” she said rolling up her sleeve to reveal a carefully taped down PIC line. “And I was making them all crazy after the first week.”

“She was driving us nuts after the first three days,” said another doctor coming in. “Mrs Lopez?” she asked. “I’m Dr Martin and I’m here from Ortho to take a look at your shoulder. I think we’ll need to move this little munchkin first though.”

“Here, I’ll take him,” Mr Lopez said, picking him up.

“Momma?” he asked sleepily. 

“I’m right here, honey,” Weaver said as Greg finished the blood draw.

“Momma?” This was more plaintive.

“Your momma’s just here, Henry,” Mr Lopez said pulling the chair up next to Weaver’s bed and sitting close enough that she could reach out and take his hand.

“Thank you,” she said quietly to him and again, Greg felt like he was missing out on a whole lot of subtext.

When Haleh arrived back she handed Greg the chart before turning to Weaver;

“Eat,” she said handing over a plate with a sliced bagel. “You can have the PO after that,” she added with a look just asking to be challenged. When it became clear that Kerry wasn’t going to fight, Haleh calmly set about connecting the IV. Greg took the chart and the blood samples out to Admit, snagging Lilly and asking her to the blood up to the lab.

He was just finishing up with Neuro who had finally turned up to look at his Parkinson's patient, when Dr Martin came back out.

“Mrs Lopez won’t need surgery,” she said. “I’ll send down some discharge instructions and an outpatient appointment with the Ortho clinic and physio.”

“That’s good,” he said checking the consult notes on the chart.

“Would you send a copy of Dr Weaver’s blood results up to us?” she asked. “Save her coming back in to have them done for a few more days.”

“Sure,” Greg said. “Was she really that bad a patient?” he added as an afterthought.

“Not really, but she was as comfortable as she was going to get and proved that she could manage the PIC line one handed, so Dr Kline decided to give her some leeway. The right amount of independence is important in orthopedic rehabilitation,” she said.

“Pretty bad then?” Greg said with a smirk.

“Not great,” Martin conceded with a smile. “We could have done with having that nurse.”

“Haleh? She knows her stuff and she’s worked with Dr Weaver for a long time. They do a good line in ‘push and pull’.”

“Well, she ate the bagel so whatever works,” Martin said. “Don’t forget to send us those results!” she said added as she headed towards the lifts.

“All ok?” he asked, when Haleh stepped out of the exam room a few minutes later.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Give it another few minutes and she’ll be fast asleep.”

“You think I need to be worried?” he asked, trusting her medical judgement.

“I think that a mad dash across town to comfort her distressed son and hand hold her in-laws was more than she had the reserves for.”

“Well let’s hope she sleeps then,” Greg said.

An hour later, Frank handed over the discharge notes and Weaver’s blood results to Greg personally.

“Thanks Frank,” he said leafing through the results as he wandered towards the exam room. He got a grunt in return but the clerk’s actions spoke louder than words.

Mr and Mrs Lopez were talking quietly by her bed while on the other gurney Kerry was tucked on her side, a pillow between her knees to support her compromised hip and an arm thrown over Henry.

“Shhh they’re sleeping,” Mrs Lopez said, entirely unnecessarily.

“That’s good,” Greg said, keeping his voice down. “I’ve got your discharge notes here, Mrs Lopez. Read through them and let me know if you have any questions, ok?”

“Yes, thank you so much Dr Pratt.”

“Do you need us to leave right away?” her husband asked. “It seems like a shame to wake him up and we could drop Kerry off on our way once she’s ready to go.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Weaver said, pushing herself up on her elbow, blinking owlishly.

“We want to,” Mr Lopez said. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Well then,” she said, clearly uneasy. “That would be very kind.”

“There’s maybe a half hour to run on your IV, “ Greg said, checking the flow rate before turning back the Lopez’s. “You’re all welcome to stay until it’s done.”

“Thanks Greg,” Kerry said, clearly already drifting back towards unconsciousness.

“I’ll let you rest,” he said. "Just let someone know if you need anything.” Leaving them alone, Greg checked the time and the comparatively quiet board and wondered how long he could stretch that half hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Kerry's character and her relationship with the staff in the ER is complicated but I hope that I've captured it here.  
> Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts!  
> lha x


	4. Chapter 4

Kerry hadn’t meant to fall asleep while her IV was running but she simply hadn't been able to resist the pull of exhaustion any longer. Other than speaking to Henry at bedtime each night and coming in for a blood test and physio as an outpatient a few days ago, her week had consisted primarily of taking her meds, sleeping and failing to be able to concentrate on things. 

Today though, the adrenalin rush that had started as soon as she’d realised Frank was not calling for any one of the more ludicrous and unnecessary reasons he’d previously contacted her at home, had taken everything out of her. She’d moved as quickly as she could, leaving the house without a thought to what she must look like or how she was dressed and had been standing waiting on the street before she even processed the fact that the clerk had offered to order a cab for her. All she had been able to think about was seeing Henry for herself.

The pain in her hip as he’d flung himself into her arms had been entirely subsumed by the unadulterated relief at being able to hold him. She’d been aware of Pratt behind her, helping to keep her upright and on some level she should have cared but she’d only asked for a seat when she’d realised that the extra weight was rapidly becoming too much for her healing muscles. Once she was seated though, her world shrunk to the feel of Henry’s stuttering breath against her neck. He was ok. He was going to be fine. 

When Maria had been so open, she’d initially put it down to the shock of the accident. She’d certainly never doubted that the other woman wouldn’t intentionally hurt Henry, but her guilty apology had taken her back. Kerry had meant what she’d said though, there was nothing to be gained by blaming anyone for what by all accounts seemed to have been an unfortunate misstep. There was more to it than that though; Kerry had been taken aback to hear the other woman refer to her as _’momma’_ , and when Mateo had done the same she’d thought she might cry. 

Once Haleh had set up the IV and been placated that she’d at least tried to eat the bagel she’d presumably sourced from the lounge, Mateo had stood and carefully laid Henry down next to her. Kerry’s head had been spinning and she hadn’t really been able to understand how much the gesture had meant. She couldn’t understand what had changed, why they suddenly seemed to be trying. 

“Here,” Haleh said quietly, handing her the P.O. meds and a cup of water. She’d taken them by rote, and when the other woman had appeared back to take the cup back with a spare pillow in hand, Kerry had allowed her to lower the head of the bed, help her onto her side and place the pillow between her knees. Wrapping an arm around Henry her eyes slid closed and she gave in to the urge not to open them again.

Kerry was vaguely aware of the rise and fall of Henry’s chest, the back and forth of quiet conversation as she drifted but it all seemed very far away. Pratt said something about discharging them filtered through though and she started to claw her way back to consciousness.

“Do you need us to leave right away? It seems like a shame to wake him up and we could drop Kerry off on our way once she’s ready to go.” Mateo said and Kerry couldn’t quite believe her ears.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, levering herself up a few inches.

“We want to,” he replied. “It’s the least we can do.” Kerry felt like she had missed something fundamental shifting in their relationship but she couldn’t begin to fathom what it was.

“Well then, that would be very kind,” she eventually settled on. Greg came to her rescue, as he checked her IV and explained it would be another half hour at least. Another half hour, she had at least another half an hour. She tucked her elbow back in again and her eyes were closed before Pratt had left.

When she woke the next time, it felt different. 

“Dr Weaver?” Barnett was standing next to the bed and it took her longer to remember where she was and what was happening.

“Ray?” she asked, before she realised that Henry was gone and a primal fear flooded through her.

“Hey, easy,” he said, a firm hand on her shoulder. “Mr Lopez has taken Henry out to the car. He’s going to collect you and Mrs Lopez from the bay.” Kerry glanced around trying to pull together her bearings.

“How long?” she asked.

“You’ve been out for a couple of hours.”

“I thought the IV…” she said, sitting up more carefully. “Pratt said half an hour.” 

“You were both so peaceful,” Maria said from a wheelchair next to the door. “We didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“Oh,” she said running a hand over her face and trying to shed the last vestiges of sleep. “Crutches?” 

“Here,” Ray said, fetching them from next to the wall. “He’s only been gone a few minutes so there’s no need to rush.” Kerry nodded in acknowledgement before standing up slowly. She could feel the stretch and pull of her abused muscles as she straightened and grimaced for a moment.

“Just stiff,” she said seeing the questioning looks she was getting.

“We sent your bloods up to Ortho and Dr Kline has tweaked your prescription for the step down,” Ray said. “We got it filled for you.”

“Thank you,” she said reading the script that was stapled to the front of the bag. “The PIC line?” she asked, realising that the IV had been disconnected while she slept but that the port was still in place.

“Greg thought we should leave it in until we see how you respond to the new drug regime. That way, if you still need some additional IV hydration you won’t need to come back in.”

The prescription wasn’t vastly different from the one they’d given her on her last visit and that was supposed to have been delivered from her local pharmacy that afternoon.

“The saline was just a medium for the IV antibiotics Dr Barnett,” she said, double checking the dosages.

“But it also meant that you were getting 2 litres of fluid a day, even if you were struggling to keep things down,” he pointed out. It was a valid point and she knew it. Going forward she would still be taking the same dose of Rifampin and while the Vancomycin was being replaced by Doxycycline, there was a good chance that she was still going to have to force herself to stay hydrated and to eat, even with the compazine.

“Do you have everything you’ll need if we leave it in?” he asked when he realised she wasn’t going to push back.

“Yes thank you,” she replied.

“You do look better for the rest,” Maria said.

“I feel better too,” she replied honestly. “How is your face?” she asked, seeing that there was some more swelling around the right orbit.

“It’s a little sore but I’ve had some very nice painkillers.” Kerry looked at Ray.

“Vicodin,” he said with a smile. “We’ve given her a small supply and instructions for icing and resting.”

“Well that should make all the difference,” she said smiling at them both. “We should head out, we don’t want them having to wait.”

She followed Ray as he pushed Maria out into curtains and through to Chairs, and tried not to feel too awkward as various people greeted her.

“You want to wait inside?” he asked.

“No, it’s dry,” Maria said. “Let’s sit outside.” Ray looked to Kerry and she nodded in acquiescence.

“Would you be sure to thank everyone for me,” she said as they stepped out into the evening air.

“Sure thing Dr Weaver,” Ray said, pulling up next to the bench and putting the handbrake on the wheelchair. There was a paramedic rig pulling up and he glanced around to see if there was someone coming to take it.

“Go on,” she said when it became clear there wasn’t anyone else on hand. “We’ll be fine here,” she added, sitting down on the bench and resting the crutches next to her.

“Kerry,” Maria said hesitantly, once she was settled. “Mateo and I have been talking.” Kerry could feel her anxiety rising like a physical wave. “We’ve loved looking after Henry, and we still want to be involved, to be an important part of his life but… but maybe, when you’re ready to go back to work, we should talk about our regular arrangements?” The older woman said, fiddling with the two lots of prescriptions Ray had left sitting on her knee. “We’d still happily have him on the weekends and if you needed to work overnight but maybe on a day to day basis...” she trailed off.

Kerry felt like she was a page behind or a day late again, unsure how they had come to be having this conversation and why it didn’t feel like a personal attack. She’d been on the defensive every time she’d had to deal with Sandy’s parents for so long that she didn’t quite know what to say now.

“I can’t tell you how grateful that I am that he’s had you to look after him through all of this,” Kerry began honestly. “When Sandy and I spoke about... “ she stopped, clearing her throat. “Sandy always wanted you to be involved, but we... I want you to be able to enjoy the time you spend with him.

“If that means putting him in Daycare during the week then we can absolutely do that. The hospital has a really good facility,” she continued gently. “Maybe you could come and see it with me before we make any decisions?” She might not understand how they’d gotten here but she was sure that she’d like them to stay there.

“I’d like that,” Maria said, reaching out her uninjured arm to squeeze one of Kerry’s hands. “We can talk about it more when you come to dinner. Sandy always said you were good in the kitchen, maybe between us we can manage to rustle something up,” she said gesturing to her shoulder and Kerry’s crutches. “Get some meat back on those bones.”

“Maria, I thought we were going to leave this conversation for a few days,” Mateo said stepping out of the car his frustration plain.

“It was the right time,” she replied, standing up out of the wheel chair and handing over the prescription bags to him. “Come on now, we all need to get home.”

The drive was strangely comforting; Maria and Mateo arguing gently about what he could or could not be trusted to make for dinner and whether Carlos’ wife was going to be allowed into Maria’s kitchen. The conversation flowed over Kerry, and she sat watching Henry sleep in his car seat next to her, the gentle rise and fall of his chest almost hypnotic. It was only when they pulled in that she even realised they were on her street. 

“Thank you for the lift,” she said. Unfastening her seatbelt, she kissed her fingers and then rested them on Henry’s cheek for a moment.

Mateo had gotten out of his seat and come around the car to open her door;

“Let me,” he said.

“Really, it’s ok,” she said getting herself upright, her crutches tucked under her arms only to realise her prescriptions were still sitting on the seat.

“Let me help,” he repeated quietly. “We’ve gotten this far, I’d hate for you to slip on your way to your own front door.”

With a short nod, Kerry moved away from the car so that he could reach in and pick up the bag. They walked slowly towards the apartment, and only when they reached the top of the steps and she was fishing for the keys in her pocket did he speak again.

"I'm not sure exactly what Maria said to you while you were waiting," he began hesitantly and clearly deeply uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry,” she said, sliding the key into the lock as an excuse to keep her gaze averted. “I understand that she’s had a fright and some strong painkillers. I won’t hold her to anything.” She looked up at him as she finished, trying to present a neutral, calm exterior.

“No,” he said firmly. “No, I meant… Maria might have gone about it backwards earlier, but we have spoken about things. It’s just there was another conversation that we probably should have had first,” he sighed, clearly trying to find the best way to approach the topic. “We were wrong,” he finally said. “We should have cherished you Kerry, if for no other reason then because Sandy loved you and we haven’t done that.

"I, we, hadn't accepted that you were Henry's mother and that you wanted nothing more than what was best for him. Instead of working with you, supporting you, I think we've… well we haven't made your life easy."

Kerry opened her mouth to speak but Mateo wasn't finished.

"I can't pretend that we haven't behaved the way we have and it’s much too late for us all to start again, but maybe we could… I don't think this has to be as difficult as we've made it."

"I…" Kerry began, only to stop and try to read what was going on behind his eyes. Mateo tolerated her gaze in silence, his earlier awkwardness seeming to slip away. "I don't think that it has to be this way either," she managed eventually.

"Well that's a place for us to start," he said, offering her a half smile that seemed to release the tension that had been humming in the air between them. "We can talk more when you come to dinner but let's get you inside for now."

Kerry opened the door and Mateo followed her in, depositing her medication on the kitchen table and checking that she had everything she needed before she showed himself out. She thought that she’d thanked him again and said goodnight before he left, but she couldn’t be certain. Her mind was going so fast that it wasn’t really moving. 

She had consciously not allowed herself to dwell on her relationship with Sandy’s family for so long; hadn’t wanted to analyze their motivations, their feelings towards her and what their fear was about the influence she had on their grandson. There laid monsters, some of which at least were born of her own mind.

Instead, she had focussed on making the situation work. She didn’t need them to like her, she didn’t need them to agree with her but she did need to make it work, to ensure that she did the best by Henry and what Sandy had wanted for him. And for the most part she’d thought she was succeeding. Maria and Mateo had seemed thrilled when she’d first approached the topic of them having Henry to stay after her surgery, they’d received her calls with some good grace and as long as neither party had expected any more then it had been fine.

The last few weeks had been different though, now that she allowed herself to dwell on it. Carlos had brought Henry to the hospital the day after she’d been admitted and as he’d run into the room, How to Lose a Lemur clasped carefully in his hands she wasn’t sure she’d ever loved him more. Henry had come back the day after her surgery but it had been Luka who had led him in and she’d hardly been in a place to question how that had happened. When she’d been released from the hospital, Abby had insisted on driving her home and when they’d arrived to find her fridge already stocked she hadn’t really believed that the younger woman hadn’t done it herself.

Maybe, she realised, maybe there had been more signs than she had been able or willing to see but…

The sound of the phone ringing woke her from her stupor and she moved, realising she’d been stationery far too long, to pick up the handset.

_“Kerry?”_

“Abby,” she replied, recognising the young woman’s voice.

 _“I heard about the excitement. I just wanted to make sure you had made it home ok,”_ she said, the noise of the hospital audible in the background. 

“I’m here,” she replied before her brain caught up with her mouth. “Yes, sorry. I’m home safe and sound.”

_”Well that’s good. Are you ok? You don’t sound…”_

“It’s been a long day.” she replied tartly, moving so that she could sit in her preferred chair. “And…” she added before she could talk herself out of it. “I… they apologised. Mateo apologised and I don’t know what…” There were tears flooding down her cheeks and she had no idea why.

 _”Apologised?”_ Abby asked gently.

“I don’t know… I think… He… They were…” she managed disjointedly between sobs.

 _”Kerry do you need me to come over? I can get someone to cover me..._ Kerry was shaking her head, long before she managed to make an audible response.

"No… I'm fine… I don't know… what's wrong… but I'm ok…" Some small, rational part of her mind heard a door open and the sound on the other end of the phone change.

_"Kerry?"_

"It's ok. I'm not upset really..."

_”You sound pretty upset.”_

“I was fine until you called,” Kerry said chuckling hollowly and wiping her face with her hand. “Maybe I should have said, _’I’m not distressed.’_ Confused and overwhelmed maybe but… but not distressed.” She could almost hear the younger woman considering her response.

 _”If you’re sure?”_

“I’m certain,” Kerry said checking her watch, taken aback to see it was after eight. “I think I’m going to have a shower and maybe a medicinal glass of whiskey and go to bed.”

 _”That seems like a good idea,”_ Abby said. _”I could come by for breakfast tomorrow after I finish up? Give you a chance to talk things through if you need to?”_

“That would be good,” she agreed. “I’ll make something but will you pick up some nice bread from the place by the El stop?” For the first time in weeks, Kerry’s culinary interest was peaked as she started thinking about what there was in the fridge that she could use.

 _“Sure,”_ Abby said. _”Just remember that I’ll be up all night so if you can’t sleep or if you want to talk, you can just page me.”_

“Thank you for the offer,” she said. “Have a good shift, and if you need to cancel just call.”

 _”I’ll see you tomorrow,”_ Abby said ignoring Kerry’s offer of an out.

Once the call had ended, Kerry didn’t allow herself to slip back into her own thoughts but stood and headed towards her bedroom. She only made it as far as the hall before she came to a halt though, standing in front of a series of pictures hanging along the wall. It had been Sandy’s project and she had spent far too long rifling through Kerry’s albums and picking the pictures she had wanted to use. Her choices had bemused Kerry, but that seemed to be part of the joy of it as far as Sandy was concerned. 

She looked at the two young girls they had once been; she grinning from the low hanging branch of the tree outside their home in Kenya and Sandy the lone girl in a scrum of boys wrestling on the floor of her parents home. In the next frame Kerry was lying on a blanket, entirely absorbed in the book in front of her and in it’s partner Sandy was standing on the plate her bat swung back, her body coiled in anticipation of the strike. There was a picture of Kerry with her parents and another of the extended Lopez family at a barbeque; a candid snap of Kerry that she suspected Gabe had taken at Mount Sinai and one of Sandy and her crew at the fire station.

The first picture of them together had been taken by a friend of Sandy’s at a birthday party, the pair of them laughing at something Kerry couldn’t even remember. Then Sandy was pregnant and glowing and Kerry was barely even able to recognize herself in the woman gazing lovingly at her partner. The last picture Sandy had hung had been the three of them the day that they’d brought Henry home from the hospital and while Kerry had added several since then, it was there her gaze stalled tonight. 

Reaching forward, her fingers hovered just shy of the glass over the curve of Sandy’s face. 

At first Kerry’s grief had been all consuming, and even now it could take her breath away but she’d had no choice but to keep going. She’d been pulled from the fog of pain so sharply when it became clear that she was going to have to fight for Henry, that in some ways it had been the saving of her. No doubt a therapist would disagree and she could hear Sandy’s sceptical noise as clear as day, but Kerry knew that in that moment she had needed a fight more than anything.

It hadn’t changed the truth of the matter though; Sandy was gone, and Kerry missed her more than she could put into words even on the better days. She closed the final few millimeters to touch the cool glass beneath her fingers.

“We’re going to be ok,” she whispered, not sure who she was speaking to. For the first time in a long time though, she was almost sure she believed it herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope that this has been a satisfactory conclusion!  
> In no way am I suggesting that this is a happily ever after, that there aren't still issues or that Kerry's thoughts or understanding of the situation are healthy but situations rarely resolve themselves so that they are.  
> Please do let me know your thoughts either here or over on twitter @LHA_again  
> lha x
> 
> PS - For obvious reasons, the pictures I've used in the mock up of the photo wall are not of the characters in this story. I wrote the descriptions first and then searched for images I thought reflected the spirit of the pictures I'd seen on my head.


End file.
